


He Doesn't Want to Fight (He Just Wants to Start One)

by nah_tho



Series: Dumb Interspecies Relations [5]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Explicit Consent, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Rude Brad, Size Kink, Taako/Kravitz but background, because moon elf taako is an interesting take to me, blue taako, spoilers probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 02:45:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12202311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nah_tho/pseuds/nah_tho
Summary: Taako gets into Moods, sometimes.They can be hard to deal with.





	He Doesn't Want to Fight (He Just Wants to Start One)

**Author's Note:**

> I got my friend into bradko and then when their birthday happened I offered to write them something and received RUDE BRAD as an answer in all-caps.
> 
> I tried my best.

Brad had been warned about Taako’s Moods, a word Kravitz had attributed enough gravity to set it firmly apart in his mind.

This was why, right from the moment Taako entered his field of vision, he had the feeling he was about to witness his first Mood.

And he had a feeling he knew which one this was.

To start with, Taako’s body language was all wrong: ordinarily, he carried himself with a loose, disinterested grace, eyes wandering over everyone and everything, hands either flying in a constant flurry of gestures or fidgeting endlessly with his hair, his glaive, his clothes.

This Taako slunk into the room Brad was reading in with a quiet sensuousness that reminded Brad more of a cat on the hunt than any attempt to be eye-catching. His ears kept flickering in a way Brad had never seen them do- they generally moved with the same sort of languid disinterest as the rest of him. He’d seen other elves’ ears moving like this, with this sharp, attentive quickness- something particularly common in the presence of an orc, if he was being honest with himself- but never Taako’s.

He watched discreetly.

Taako was watching him back, sidelong. Even looking out of the corner of his eye as he was, his gaze was fixed, focused, impatient.

He inserted himself between the light source and Brad and proceeded to absently inspect his nails. Brad looked at the long line of shadow Taako was casting over his book.

He had Darkvision, and Taako had to know that, but Brad got the hint.

“Do you need something?” he asked cautiously.

Taako was quiet for an uncharacteristically long time before answering. “No,” he said, flicking a hand dismissively, and then slunk out of the path of the light, taking his shadow with him.

Brad kept up the pretense of reading, but he could hear the whipcord tension in Taako’s steps, in the way his feet barely seemed to touch the floor before lifting. He looked up when they stopped.

Taako was staring at his mug of coffee with a look of strange contemplation.

Brad looked at him.

He raised his eyes to look back, extended a hand forward, and swept the cup off the table.

It shattered on the floor. The sound was unmistakable.

“Oops,” Taako said insincerely, raising his fingers to his mouth in a gesture of mock-regret.

Brad could feel his eyebrows rising. “Was there something you wanted to say to me, Taako?” he asked, closing his book and placing it on the couch beside him.

Taako treated him to another long silence. “No,” he said again.

Brad waited.

“Yes,” Taako said, “why are you so fucking _nice_ all the time, hm? It’s gross.”

He could feel the exasperation in his expression. “Would you prefer it if I weren’t nice to you?”

Taako looked down his nose at him. “Yeah,” he said, narrowing his eyes and turning away a little.

“Fine,” Brad said evenly. “So why are you making this so complicated, Taako? You clearly want something.”

Taako stiffened, sent him a glare under his pale eyelashes, and crossed his arms over his chest. Brad eyed the profile of his face with amusement.

“I’m not doing anything for you if you don’t ask me for it,” Brad told him, resting his cheek on his fist.

The colour surged in Taako’s face.

It was, to be honest, one of Brad’s favourite things: the way the blood rushing to his nose and cheeks deepened his somewhat strange and ethereal colouring was beautiful.

The way Taako snarled at him, curling his upper lip back from his teeth, was beautiful, too.

“I don’t-” he started. “That’s not-”

Brad waited patiently.

Taako clenched his jaw and stared off somewhere to the right.

Brad waited.

“What do you want me to say, my man?” Taako finally snarled. “Hm? The fuck do you want from me?”

Brad gestured welcomingly. “Taako, I believe I asked you first: what do _you_ want?”

Taako shifted, stomped a foot, uncrossed and re-crossed his arms. “I don’t know,” he admitted, half-whining. “To break shit. Pick a fight, maybe. Have sex. All of the above.” He laughed sharply and tried to shrug. It was a weird spasm of gesture, like he wanted to pretend at normalcy but couldn’t. His knee was bouncing restlessly. “Cha boy got _problems_ , in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Okay,” Brad allowed. “And what do you want me to do about it?”

Taako’s flush darkened. “Just beautiful,” Brad almost said. He refrained, and waited.

“Fuck me,” Taako muttered.

“Wouldn’t that be nice,” Brad said pleasantly.

Taako stared at him. “…What?”

“You haven’t done a tremendously good job of convincing me, Taako,” Brad told him, smiling with all his teeth.

Taako looked like he was chewing his own tongue with the strain of not saying something extremely rude. “And how do I do that?”

Brad raised both palms in an exaggerated, slightly mocking shrug. “You tell me. I’m not the one who wants something.”

Taako just gawked at him, ears slowly turning backwards in his hair. Brad watched them, amused.

“You did say you wanted me to stop being ‘so nice’ to you,” he pointed out cheerfully.

“Well, yeah, but-” Taako started, and then stopped to stared at nothing with a weird expression.

Brad could feel his eyebrows rising. He recognized that particular expression.

It was the _wait, am I into this?_ expression that invariably preceded Taako discovering that he hadn’t quite plumbed the depths of his well of depravity just yet.

Brad waited.

“…Yeah, okay,” Taako said, gathering himself back up into that haughty stance, “as long as you know that means I don’t have to be nice to _you_ , either, my man.” Brad thought he’d never looked so much an elf as he did in that moment.

“When were you ever?” Brad teased, just to watch his fading flush surge back into full bloom. “So,” he murmured, “you were convincing me.”

Taako gestured broadly at himself. The look he sent Brad from under his silvery lashes was both sultry and antagonistic. “Consider yourself convinced.”

Brad reached for his book. Taako stomped his foot. It didn’t make much of a sound against the hard floor of Brad’s living room.

Brad ignored him, pushing his glasses up his nose and returning to the page he’d been reading.

He didn’t have to look up to know what expression Taako was making, or to know that his hands were clenched into fists at his sides.

“Fine,” Brad heard him mutter, “fine, okay, fuck.”

He didn’t exactly anticipate Taako sliding to the floor between his knees, but the action didn’t surprise him enough to break his performance.

“Pretty good fucking book, huh?” Taako grumbled, fumbling with his fly with the same difficulty he always had when it came to Brad’s clothes.

“Dwarven brewing techniques are a fascinating subject,” Brad answered earnestly, partially because it was true, and partially because he knew Taako would know he was being serious and hate it.

And he did hate it. The look he sent Brad from between his thighs would have made a lesser orc rethink having him anywhere near his dick.

“The differences in method that developed between hill and mountain dwarves is absolutely astounding,” he told Taako, watching him steadily grow more and more incensed as he yanked at the closure of Brad’s pants, “and that’s without even mentioning glass-casking, which is a fascinating specialty of coastal settlements- say, Merle is a beach dwarf, isn’t he? I wonder-”

“Do _not_. Just don’t,” Taako interrupted, shoving a finger in his face before grabbing him by the wrist and yanking one of his own hands down to his crotch. He didn’t have the strength to do so by force, but Brad let it happen. “Open this,” he ordered.

Brad quirked an eyebrow at him.

Taako looked he was trying to swallow something foul. “Please,” he seethed.

Brad inclined his head obligingly and did so.  Taako’s hands were in his pants and on his underwear so fast they had to shove Brad’s out of the way to do so.

Taako’s tongue blazed a warm streak up the girth of his dick, which was, admittedly, already showing distinct signs of interest in the proceedings, no matter how convincingly Brad feigned indifference.

He did find his eyes wandering down from the pages of his book, inevitably.

The intense, almost worshipful delight Taako seemed to take in laving attention on his dick was not, and had never been, something Brad had been able to ignore. It was hard not to follow the movements of his wet pink tongue, his small blue hands, his purplish lips.

Brad put his book down. Taako sent him a narrow, triumphant look as he pressed soft lips to the base of his erection. “Oops,” he said, tongue darting out and up until Brad could feel the wet line it left stretching from base to tip. “Distracted, Bradson?”

“You seem to have a talent for it,” Brad murmured, pushing the hair back from Taako’s face. It flowed through his fingers like moonlit water.

Taako grinned at him and then slid his mouth down over the tip, still making eye contact. The farthest he could get down it wasn’t more than halfway, but he sucked that half with an enthusiasm that left Brad fisting a hand in his hair.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, not bothering to hold himself back this time. “You’re so beautiful.”

His dick popped out of Taako’s mouth with a truly profane sound. “Everyone looks good when it’s your dick they’re sucking,” Taako offered wisely, and then licked another strip up the one in his hand. “And I thought you weren’t going to be nice to me, hm, my man?”

Brad snorted. “Then by all means, please thank me for saying you’re more attractive company with my dick your mouth,” he said pleasantly.

Taako leveled an absolutely scathing stare at him before turning to continue his ministrations.

Brad tugged his erection out of Taako’s small hands and looked at him expectantly.

Taako looked very much like he’d like to use those hands to strangle him.

Brad waited, stroking himself without much urgency.

Taako’s eyes flickered down, then up to his face. Down. Up. Down again. “…Thanks,” he mumbled, more to Brad’s dick than to Brad himself.

“For?” Brad teased.

He was very suddenly confronted with a murderous snarl. “Don’t fucking push it,” Taako seethed, “I _can_ obliterate you.”

Brad raised both his hands, palms forward, in a show of submission. He was still smiling despite the threat. “If that’s what my truth is, there are worse ways,” he joked.

Taako’s ire faded into something a little sulkier. “Fuckin’ weirdo,” he muttered, and then went back to what he was doing.

Brad watched him openly this time. “You should finger yourself,” he suggested.

Taako quirked a pale brow at him mid-suck. “Oh?” he purred. “Am I doing a better job of convincing you now, Bradson?”

“I am,” he mused, “being convinced.”

“Sixty… seventy percent?” Taako asked hopefully.

Brad shrugged and tried to hide a smile. “Maybe forty.”

Taako scowled at him, planted one last kiss under the head of his dick, and rolled smoothly to his feet.

He paused in the doorway to the bedroom. “You wanna watch me work or what?” he asked coyly, looking over his shoulder.

Brad had watched him go without feeling rushed, but that brought him to his feet. “Of course.”

Taako’s clothes were already decorating his floor by the time he’d entered the bedroom. Brad leaned against the doorframe as Taako flopped down on his bed, lube in hand.

“When you decide to stop being a prick about it,” Taako said, letting his legs fall open and reaching down to touch his asshole with a slick finger, “you’re welcome to join me.”

Brad hummed, taking himself in hand. “Fifty percent,” he answered after a long, slow stroke.

Taako stuck out his tongue at him and then slipped a finger inside himself with a soft noise of enjoyment.

“…Sixty,” Brad murmured, just a little too quiet for Taako to hear.

Taako stroked himself with one hand and rocked his other rhythmically, quickly driving his index finger into his ass to the second knuckle before drawing it out slowly, tantalizingly.

Brad caught his hand matching the rhythm and forced himself to slow.

Taako was sending him a sly smile as he pushed his second finger in. It breached with an ease that made Brad’s dick ache hopefully.

“Seventy-five?” Taako called, a little breathless.

“Ninety,” Brad admitted, and Taako let go of his dick to fist pump triumphantly. “Eighty-five,” Brad amended wryly.

Taako swore, pressed his third finger into himself, and made full eye contact as he thrust his fingers in and out of his ass.

Brad pushed himself off the doorframe. “Consider me convinced,” he allowed.

Taako reached for him, but the motion he made strongly suggested that he’d started to fist pump, thought better of it, and decided to turn the whole production into a sultry _come hither_.

Brad loomed over him, sliding a hand down his thigh. “May I?”

Taako gave him a look. “Oh, we’re back to this? Sure can, nerd,” he said, sounding bored.

Brad gently pulled Taako’s hand free, and then not-so-gently thrust his own, thicker finger in. Taako gasped, back snapping up into a hard arch.

“Oh, _woah_ ,” he moaned, “that’s more like it.”

Brad didn’t warn him when before working in his second finger, or his third, and by the time Taako was stretched around all three, he was panting and pawing at Brad’s arm. “Hurry up and _fuck_ me,” he demanded.

Brad quirked an eyebrow at him. “Oh?”

“Please,” Taako said immediately, “please, you ridiculous fucking nerd, please just shut up and give me that big, beautiful dick-”

The noise he made when Brad pushed into him was holy, the sort of sound he’d expect to hear in a moment of divine unity. Taako’s hands scrabbled at his back. Even through his shirt, Brad could feel their nails dragging welts into his skin.

A Mood was right, he thought. The emphasis was deserved.

“ _Ffffuck me,”_ Taako growled, nipping with teeth too blunt to pierce his skin at his jaw, his lips, his throat.

When Brad tried to kiss him, his glasses bumped Taako’s nose.

Taako ripped them off his face and threw them so hard they sailed through the open door and into the living room.  Brad watched them go with a vague sense of worry.

Taako yanked on his ponytail hard enough to annoy even him.

“I think you,” he said firmly, grabbing Taako’s wrists and pinning them over his head, “need to take it easy.”

Taako treated him to a truly nasty snarl, but didn’t even try to fight his grip. “I think you need to stop fucking around and fuck me,” he parroted mockingly.

Brad considered him. “Taako,” he started, “I’d like to tie your hands to the bedframe, if that’s alright with you.”

Taako gave him a weird look, like he wasn’t sure why Brad was asking. “Then do that. You go right ahead and do that, my man.”

He did that, taking his time tying careful knots while Taako squirmed on his dick with increasing impatience.

“There we are,” he said when he was done, and Taako wrapped his legs around his waist eagerly.

He began to undo the buttons on his shirt, making sure to be slow and methodical about each one.

Taako stared at him and then squeezed his knees against Brad’s ribs as hard as he could, which still wasn’t very. “You’re the _worst_ ,” he whined. “This is the worst.”

“We can stop,” Brad offered pleasantly.

Taako dug his heels into his back in protest and glowered at him.

“It almost seems like you… do want me to be nice to you, Taako,” Brad murmured, smiling.

Taako squirmed and flushed and swore quietly. “…But hard,” said, yanking against the tie around his wrists restlessly.

“Hmm?”

Taako scowled. “You can be nice, I guess,” he muttered, “but only if you fuck me hard. That’s my offer, take it or-”

Brad kissed him firmly and fucked up into him with a brisk force that made him wail. With every thrust, he seemed to drive Taako’s eyes a little bit more closed, his back into a higher arch, his voice into a louder whine or cry or moan.

“Please,” Taako was babbling, looking vague and ecstatic as Brad touched him, “oh fuck, please, just like that-”

Taako came with a force that drove a surprised curse out of Brad, his ass closing, viselike, around his dick.

When Brad finally came down from his own high, Taako was grinning at him. “You swore,” he said dopily.

Brad snorted and shook his head. The tie around Taako’s wrists loosened easily enough, but he still inspected each one carefully for damage.

The moment he let them go, they wound around his neck, and the soft, sloppy way Taako kissed him told him that this particular Mood seemed to have passed.

“I have to clean up,” Brad told him gently.

Taako’s arms tightened around him. “Nuh.”

Brad glanced at the spectacular mess on Taako’s stomach. He didn’t have to look to see the mess he’d made inside of him- he could feel it, and feel it slowly eking out. He was acutely aware of how awkward it would be if he had to bring his blanket to the communal washing station covered in questionable substances. “Really, Taako, we need to clean up.”

“Taako squinted at him, seemed to think about it, and then went,

“Nuh,”

again, closing his eyes.

Brad sighed.

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a collection of fics I'm apparently already writing. It comes later in the narrative.


End file.
